


I Miss You

by mirandamyth



Series: Sidelines [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions, Dreams, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger - The Crypt Scene, I'm just too lazy to type them, M/M, Mutual Pining, Season/Series 08, Unresolved Romantic Tension, is the most destiel tag i have ever seen, minor character cameos, parks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirandamyth/pseuds/mirandamyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 8x17, Cas comes when Dean calls, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Miss You

It's been three weeks since Cas disappeared from Lucifer's crypt. (More accurately, it's been twenty-two days, seven hours, and fifteen minutes, if someone was counting, which Dean definitely wasn't.) It's currently nearing 5 am, and Dean's been shook from another nightmare. He lays in the dark gasping for air, and does what he always does after these dreams. He talks to the only person who could help.

“Hey, Cas, it's uh – well, it's me. I know it's a long shot here, buddy, but making this conversation a face to face ordeal might be best.” Dean pauses, breath baited, awaiting the tell tale rustle and obligatory 'Hello Dean.' that should come with it. He supposes he can't be disappointed if he never really expected Cas to show. 

He continues as though Cas is right there, next to him, or in the chair on the empty side of the room. “You were in my dream again, Cas. I mean, I know it's not you. Not you, you, anyway, just my head fucking with me. But the effect's still the same.” Dean sighs and rubs a hand down his face, “And I don't think it'd be so damn bad if I just knew you were alive, not sporting some ash wings in the middle of nowhere. Or worse, pinned up by the wings somewhere I can't help you.” Dean falls silent, and if his breath hitches in a sob, well, no one's around to hear it, anyway. “Man, just when you're done with whatever, come home, okay? Please, Cas, I need you, man.” 

Dean strains his ears for an hour, as though those words would work this time, if they haven't for the last twenty-odd tries.

 

\----------------------------

 

Dean's sitting on a park bench, overlooking a playground. He can see Ben and Lucas playing together in the sand box, each not a day older than when he met them. Krissy Chambers is off to the side with Aiden and Josephine, cleaning their weapons in the shade of a large maple. Sammy, age four, is hanging off the monkey bars, and Claire Novak is on the swings with Emma. 

Dean looks around for Lisa, or even Andrea, but the playground is devoid of other adults. It's then that Dean hears the noise he's been praying for. The slight displacement of air that indicates Cas has arrived. It comes from behind him, but Dean is afraid to turn around. He is no stranger to dreams like these. He knows if he turns, Cas will be there, bloody and dying, or blade raised ready to strike. Dean's not sure which option is worse, he never is. He faces steadfastly forward, hoping that if he ignores it, he can have just one peaceful dream. 

“Hello, Dean.” And just like that, Dean knows. He knows that this isn't an ordinary dream, that he might get his damn wish, for once. Because in all his nightmares with Cas, he's never said those two words. He's always too close to death to speak, and Dean's too late to save him, or he's in robot mode, stalking Dean like a hunter would a wounded deer. 

“Cas?” Dean says, his voice betraying his calm exterior. “Are you actually here?” Because for all the bone deep certainty that it's actually Cas, Dean's too used to being screwed with in his own head.

“I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, Dean.” Cas sighs, and moves to sit beside Dean. “But I've heard your prayers every night.”

And for all that Dean has been worrying and losing sleep and fucking begging Cas to come back, come home, he can't find it in himself to be anything close to angry. Honestly, he mostly wants to cry. “Why now, Cas?” He asks, shakily, “Where the hell have you been?”

“I can't tell you.” Cas says, “And I can't come back, not yet. There's still so much that needs to be done.”

Now, Dean's angry. “What the hell do you mean, you can't tell me?” He spits, “Why the fuck are you here then?”

It's then that Cas looks at Dean, for the first time in twenty-two days, eight hours, and thirty-six minutes, and Dean's anger melts away at the look on the angel's face. Cas looks broken. “Because you called. Because I couldn't stay away. Because I need you, Dean.”

“Then come back, Cas. We can figure out what's going on together. You and me and Sammy. Like the old days, but with better accommodations.” Dean implores, leaning in to search Cas's face for the answer he's sure isn't coming. As if, as long as Cas wanted to come back, it would be enough. (But it wouldn't be, not really.) 

“I will, Dean, as soon as I am able. But for now, I need you to trust me. I need to finish this, myself. Sam needs to close the gates of Hell, and you need to keep your brother alive.”

Dean sits there next to Cas, silent, his eyes focused on the swing set; Emma is pushing Sammy (who's kicking his legs just a little out of rhythm) high, high, higher, til he disappears behind clouds, only to come down in a perfect arch, the white soles of his shoes shining like a comet. Only after Sammy is safely on the ground does he speak, “Would it kill you to check in?” 

Cas seems at a loss for words now. As Cas collects his thoughts, Dean watches Ben grow into a teenager and leave Lucas behind to polish a crossbow with Josephine. “I don't think I can, Dean. I don't think I'll be able to stay away if I allow myself the luxury. Certainly not in person.” Cas directs his gaze away from where Claire is hanging by her knees from the monkey bars, and catches Dean's eye, “It's all I can do to stay away now. If I were to come to you, corporeally, I'm not sure I would be able to leave again.” 

“I'm not going an indefinite amount of time talking to a wall, imagining that bitch turning you into a fucking angel-kebob. Not again.”

“Naomi made me kill you one thousand times, Dean.” Castiel doesn't look at Dean as he says this; he's focusing on his hands, remembering the blood that had coated them. “ She can do far worse than physically pain me.”

Dean's dumbfounded as he watches Cas watch his hands. After what seems like an eternity, he says, “Okay.” Cas looks at him, disbelieving. Dean continues, “You couldn't do it, though, Cas. You had the chance in the crypt. Hell, I thought you might take it for a minute. But it doesn't matter what the bitch made you do in heaven if you couldn't go through with it for real.”

“It was you, Dean, you broke the connection.” Cas states this as fact, meeting Dean's eyes, “Naomi reminded me how it was to not feel things. To not care about people, only orders. But,” Cas smiles wryly now, reminding Dean faintly of that terrible future, “I can't help but feel around you. You make me incredibly human.” Before Dean can even begin to formulate a response to that (or even decide if he actually wants to steer this out of chick-flick territory), Cas's voice fills the silence between them once again. “My brothers and sisters find it an affront that I enjoy it. That I prefer your company to theirs. That I know how to love.”

Dean holds Cas's gaze, very aware of the hair's breadth of space between them, not sure if he's hearing what he thinks (hopes) he is. “What are you sayin', Cas?” He asks hoarsely.

“I'm saying that I think I may love you, Dean Winchester.” He says it in the same tone he assured Dean that good things can happen, all those years ago. The difference those years have made is apparent; he's lacking much of the other-worldliness of the past, he looks tried and tired, now. “I don't know when I began to feel this way, but I do know it isn't a recent development. I don't know how to stop feeling it, but I don't think I want to.” Cas is still looking Dean dead in the eye, and Dean isn't sure if he can move, let alone speak. They sit and stare as the sky above them fades to twilight. The kids are leaving, but they take no notice; til Sammy's calling, shouting for Dean, and years of instinct he can't fight cause him to look away. When he looks back, Cas is gone.

 

\------------------------------

 

Dean wakes up, relieved, anxious, and frustrated at 8 am. “I love you too, you asshole.” He pauses, hoping that maybe those three words will work, when the other three hadn't. “ Damn, it Cas. I thought you knew. All these years I thought you knew.”


End file.
